


Harvest Moon

by noussommeslessquelettes



Series: Throwback Playlist - A High School Klance AU [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), High School, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, M/M, Minor Plaxance, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Pre-Relationship, Prom, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, more like... pre-pining but whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 12:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12299712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noussommeslessquelettes/pseuds/noussommeslessquelettes
Summary: “Lance I have a secret I need to tell you,” Keith blurted suddenly, words stumbling over each other as though he was trying to get it out before he could stop himself.Lance blinked, his mind slowly ebbing back into focus. “Okay, what’s the secret?”“There’s… two of them, actually.”(High School AU) Lance hopes that prom can be a well-needed break from the stresses of being a teenager.





	Harvest Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey hey welcome back once again! This is the third installment of the Throwback Playlist series, and ironically enough it’s got the first song title that I’d actually consider to be a throwback lmao. It’s also the first installment that was actually named before I started writing it, oddly enough (although not the first one to be named, which was actually the final one believe it or not.)
> 
> If you haven’t already, I’d strongly suggest reading the first two parts before reading this one. I can tempt you with “”platonic”” klance kisses in the first one, and some context for this fic (this series does have a plot, believe it or not. It wasn’t supposed to when I started it [o/ it was only a kiss how did it end up like this? o/], but I couldn’t resist giving these kids an eventual happy ending… emphasis on the ‘eventual.’ Gotta earn that slowburn tag somehow)
> 
> (note: there is plaxance in this but I hesitated to put it in the ship tag because it's not endgame, just in case you were wondering. I'd kinda feel bad putting it in the ship tag under these circumstances ^^;;;)
> 
> Anyways slight warning for implied queerphobia, nothing’s explicit though. Stay safe, loves <3
> 
> Alright let’s get this show on the road!!!

If you asked Lance, prom couldn’t have come at a better time. As if trying to pass high school wasn’t stressful enough, and waiting to hear back on his college applications wasn’t eating him alive, Lance’s personal life had decided to all but come to shit. He was in desperate need of a night off where he could just forget about how his life had become a never ending tire-fire.

He rubbed at tired eyes as he shut his locker, swinging his now-loaded backpack over his shoulder before dragging his feet towards the cafeteria. _Four more classes_ , Lance bargained with himself, _just four more until tonight_.

He leaned a heavy shoulder into the glass door of the caf, letting it swing open with his weight before stumbling in unceremoniously, scanning the sizeable crowd for a familiar trio of heads (it wasn’t Lance’s fault that he was always the last to arrive, he asserted constantly, it’s the school system’s fault for making class start too damn early!)

As it turned out he was spotted first, evidenced by a tiny hand shooting itself straight up and waving him over to the far corner. It caught his eye and he waved back, quickening his pace over to the table that sat by the microwaves and finally seeing his friends.

Pidge sat twisted in her chair, her body still turned towards Lance but eyes on her lone companion sitting across the table, engaged in a conversation Lance couldn’t overhear quite yet. Her eyes were wide and bright as she spoke animatedly, wearing a lopsided grin before picking up a large cup of coffee and bringing it to her lips.

Across from her, Keith slumped over the table, arms that were swallowed up by a big grey hoodie served as a rest for his chin as he regarded her with half-open eyes. As Lance approached the table, he could hear Keith grumbling some response to her.

Lance chuckled at that—what on earth could have already put Keith in a grumpy mood this early in the day?—as he fell into the chair next to Keith, shouldering off his bag and letting it drop loudly onto the floor. “‘Sup nerds?”

Keith mumbled something unsavoury about Lance’s volume level, but Pidge just smiled as she set down her cup, a mischievous glint catching in her eye. “Mornin’ Lance. Keith’s got news: he’s joining the dark side.”

Lance quirked an eyebrow at this, looking to Keith for an answer. Keith, for his part, just buried his face into his forearms. “Thanks Pidge,” he muttered into them, tone oozing sarcasm.

Lance leaned down, trying to peer behind the black curtain of Keith’s hair and catch his eye. Failing this, he turned his attention back to Pidge, reaching over to snatch the coffee cup out from under her nose before she could take it back in hand. “What’re you talking about?”

She registered the theft a moment too late, hands grabbing at the empty space that was seconds ago occupied by her cup. “Wh—hey!” She snapped, scrambling to reach over the tabletop.

Lance tutted, leaning back far enough to lift the front legs of the chair off the ground,  holding it just out of her reach. “I’ve told you already, coffee’ll stunt your growth! Do you _want_ to make it to five feet tall or no?” He took a sip, scrunching his nose in distaste when the bitterness of her untempered coffee hit his tongue.

She growled, slumping back into her chair in defeat. “I’m five-one, how many times do I have to tell you?”

Lance rocked forward in the chair, letting the front legs hit the linoleum floor with a resounding _thwack!_ that elicited a groaned curse from Keith beside him. “Don’t change the subject on me, what’s going on with Keith?”

“ _You_ changed the subject, and stole my coffee!” She accused, her frown deepening.

“This is hardly coffee.” Lance held up the cup, gesturing towards it with his other hand. “It’s just bitter bean water at this point,” he asserted before taking another unpleasant swig.

“That’s what coffee is!” She insisted.

He wagged a finger as he swallowed. “You just think that because you only ever have the caf’s nasty instant shit.” Lance meant to argue further, but he cut himself short when Keith pulled his hood over his head with a huff, burying his face once more into his arms. Lance rolled his eyes and spoke up again, “so, as I was saying, what’s Keith’s news?”

Keith muttered something unintelligible, and Pidge’s smile returned as she turned to him. “Do you want to tell him, Keith?” He shook his head. “Okay, then I’ll tell him,” she replied giddily.

Keith finally looked back to her, the dark circles under his eyes accentuating the deep pout he wore. “It’s not news.”

“So then what is it?” Lance asked.

Keith huffed again, sitting up a little straighter as he turned to fix Lance with the glare now. “It’s literally nothing.”

“Aw c’mon Keith, the suspense is killing me! You’ve _got_ to tell me now,” Lance whined, slouching a bit to meet Keith’s eyes halfway. Keith was unyielding though, his eyes narrowed and his lips drawn into a thin line.

“Keith’s swearing off boys forever,” Pidge spoke up. Lance turned to her, eyes wide in surprise.

“Traitor,” Keith spat.

But Lance’s shock quickly gave way to amusement, and he turned back to Keith and grinned. “No way, I call bullshit.”

Keith quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

Lance shook his head, taking another sip of the coffee and wincing again at the taste. “ _Yech_. There’s no way you’re just giving up on guys forever. You’re a romantic at heart, Keith.”

Keith flushed, and he deepened his frown to try and cover it up. “Wh—I’m not! Plus boys are way more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Amen!” Pidge seconded from across the table, slapping her palm against the top like a judge delivering her verdict.

Lance simply smirked, sitting back in his chair. “Nope, I don’t buy it for a second. Hunk’ll back me up on this.” His smile faded as realisation hit him, twisting and turning to look around them. “Where is he anyway? He’s never later than me.”

Keith and Pidge exchanged a shifty glance, which, okay _weird_ , but whatever. “He said he had to see a teacher, but he’ll be back soon,” Pidge replied, smoothing her expression into nonchalance and sounding a lot more at ease than she’d looked a moment ago.

Lance let it go, though; if they didn’t want to tell him… _whatever_ that just was, then it wasn’t his place to pry. “Must be Mr. Iverson. I’ve been telling Hunk for _days_ to confront him about that mistake on the correction sheet.”

Keith nodded. “Yeah, that must be it then.”

“Speak of the devil.” Pidge stuck her chin out to point in the space over Lance’s shoulder, Lance following it to catch sight of his best friend, who drew himself in as much as possible to try and sidle past the other groups of students despite his wide frame.

“Hunk!” Lance called as he got within earshot, waving an enthused hand. Hunk smiled back, quickly rounding the table to sit across Lance on Pidge’s side. “Have you heard Keith’s news yet?” Lance asked as Hunk settled in his seat.

Hunk stiffened noticeably as his smile fell, glancing quickly to Keith. “I, uh… I don’t—what’s—”

“I’m giving up on guys,” Keith offered helpfully, sending Hunk a pointed look. “And Lance doesn’t think I can do it.” He tilted his head in Lance’s direction.

Lance set down the coffee to gesture at Keith with both hands. “He’s crazy, right? There’s no way he’s going to last! Tell me you’ll back me up here, man,” he pleaded, hitting Hunk with his signature puppy dog eyes.

Hunk chuckled, the tension dissipating from his shoulders. “I’m with Lance, sorry Keith.” He held up both hands innocently to ward off Keith’s glare. “It’d be too hard for you to live without boys.”

“He can totally do it,” Pidge scoffed, “it’s easy!”

“Easy for _you_ ,” Hunk corrected her. “But you can’t just choose to be aro.”

“I would,” Pidge insisted, folding her arms.

“Me too,” Keith seconded.

Hunk rolled his eyes. “Well, who wouldn’t?”

“Uh, me?” Lance waved a hand.

“Yeah, ‘cause you can get a girlfriend,” Keith muttered.

Lance’s brows shot up in intrigue. “Ooh, is that what this is all about?” He rounded on Keith, a cheshire grin pulling at his lips. “Has someone broken our young Keith’s heart?”

“Wh—no!” Keith denied, his voice growing unnaturally shrill. “It’s nothing, it’s _no one_!”

Pidge stifled a laugh despite herself. “Lance c’mon, don’t torture the poor guy.”

Lance gasped, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “You _know_ , don’t you? Pidge, you have to tell me!” He turned back to Keith. “And how dare you go to Pidge for romantic advice instead of me? That’s like going to Steve from _Blue’s Clues_ when you’ve got Leo DaVinci right here in front of you!” He gestured up-and-down himself to affirm his point.

“Hey, drawing those clues that quickly takes talent, man!” Hunk defended, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t drag my man Steve like this.”

“And Keith’s the one who got you the girlfriend, remember?” Pidge added.

“Ugh _please_ ,” Keith groaned, rubbing at his temples, “don’t remind me.”

“You know who I bet it is?” Lance loudly interrupted that train of conversation (which had never boded well for him in the past) before it could take off. “It’s Amir.” Pidge and Hunk looked to him, neither seeming convinced. However, Keith’s demeanour shifted subtly, eyes downcast and shoulders drawing in as his pout deepened. “I knew it!” Lance declared triumphantly. “You guys made out at a party at the start of school, right?”

Keith rolled his eyes, keeping up a front of resistance even though Lance could tell he’d admitted defeat. “A couple of times, actually.”

“Really Keith?” Hunk asked, still sounding doubtful. “Amir doesn’t seem like your type: captain of the hockey team, student council member, sociable, smiles a lot,” he listed off on his fingertips, eliciting a snort of laughter from Pidge with that last one.

Lance scoffed. “Are you kidding me, he’s totally Keith’s type! Tall, strong jawline, works out way too much, _and_ he’s got an ass thicker than anything I’ve seen outside a Nicki Minaj music video,” he countered, earning a reluctant but accepting nod from Keith. Lance turned back to him then. “So let me guess: you asked Amir out to prom, and he rejected you.”

Keith ran an impatient hand through his bangs, a feeble attempt to tame his wild bedhead. “Absolutely not.”

Lance raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “So you _didn’t_ get rejected?”

Keith huffed, folding his arms over his chest as he bore his glare into the tabletop. “I mean I didn’t _ask_ him, and why would I? It’s not like we’re a thing.”

Lance smiled serenely, but it stretched a bit too wide for him to pretend it was solely out of sympathy. Resting his elbow on the back of his chair, he propped his chin up on his hand. “Aw, you were hoping he’d ask you, weren’t you?”

Keith rounded back on him with a glare, cheeks burning. “What, no! God, that’s just… so stupid,” he insisted.

Hunk leaned forward on his elbows, his smile genuinely sympathetic. “It’s not like he’s going with anyone else, Keith,” he offered helpfully.

Keith flicked his gaze back across the table. “I think I know where you’re going with this, and no, I am not asking him out at prom. Or in general.”

Pidge laughed. “So what, you’re going to just sit in the corner and sulk all night while making googly eyes at him?”

“That’s been the plan all along,” he deadpanned sarcastically.

Lance thwacked him heartily over the shoulder. “Bud, you know us too well to think we’d _actually_ let you sulk in the corner by yourself. Mark my words, we’re going to have you dancing the whole night away!”

Keith scoffed. “I don’t dance.”

Lance groaned, sinking dramatically in his seat. “Keith, you _know_ I can’t hear those words without bursting into song.”

Pidge sent him a stern glare from across the table, lifting a stern finger to him. “No High School Musical before ten A.M., remember?”

“Ugh!” Lance exclaimed, throwing his head back. “This is torture. You do realise that, right? You guys are all torturing me!”

* * *

All things considered, Lance would say he had a pretty good life. Sure he struggled, but it wasn’t like he had any _real_ concerns to deal with. Not like Hunk, who was always busy studying to maintain his perfect GPA and guarantee scholarships to the nation’s top engineering colleges—hell, Lance didn’t even have to worry about college acceptances right now, seeing as though he still hadn’t earned a single one.

Not like Pidge, who wasn’t even a senior yet but was already stressing to prove herself as the next big name in robotics at sixteen years old, working day and night on new designs and prototypes. Lance shouldn’t complain about needing to pick up double shifts at the pool when he compared it to how hard Pidge was pushing herself, and on her own dime no less.

Not like Keith, who hadn’t known a stable home his whole life, who’d never had the chance to grow up with one family, or one set of parents. Really, Lance’s fears were nothing compared to what Keith had experienced. Was it even right for him to be scared of coming out to his mom and dad when he’d been blessed with a family who had loved and supported him from the start? He knew his parents were averse to queer people, he’d seen their looks of distaste when they showed pride parades on the news. But surely they’d never go so far as to throw him out of the house, so why couldn’t he just face it?

Not like Plaxum, who would be moving an entire country away at the end of the school year, leaving everything she’d known behind forever to live with her dad in Vancouver. She hadn’t told anyone, letting the secret weigh heavily on her conscience for God knows how long until she’d finally told Lance. Lance couldn’t believe he’d been so scared of telling her he was bi—he knew she was a good person, after all—when his secret wasn’t even the biggest one revealed on that day…

“You still with me?” A gentle voice sounded in Lance’s ear as a warm hand came to rest on his forearm, jostling it slightly.

Lance jolted in his seat before regaining his bearings. _Right, physics class_ , he reminded himself as the drone of their teacher’s voice faded back into his ears. He looked back to his lab partner, who had furrowed his brow and was regarding Lance with eyes that reflected… Concern? Annoyance? Curiosity? Keith could be hard to read at times. Whatever it was, it was _something_.

“‘Course,” Lance replied easily, looking back to the board to find it filled with variables and terms he couldn’t decipher. His confidence faltered. “Uh… or not. What’d I miss?”

Keith groaned at his side, replying in a hushed tone. “She’s been explaining the lab, and I’m totally lost. I was hoping _one_ of us would be able to follow her, but I guess not.” He pulled his hand away—weird, Lance had totally forgotten it’d been there for a second—and propped his cheek up against it.

“Wait—no hang on, I can totally do this,” he insisted, studying the board silently for a few seconds before speaking up again. “Isn’t this just… wait we’re still on Hooke’s Law, right?”

Keith sighed. “No dude, we’re on elastic collisions today. How long have you been out?”

Lance looked down at his notes, grimacing when he saw that only three lines had been filled before his mind had trailed off. “Well, elastic collisions use Hooke’s Law, don’t they?”

“I don’t know, _do_ they?” Keith asked, exasperated.

“We’re still talking about springs, so—”

“Lance!” His hushed conversation with Keith was interrupted by a booming voice at the front of the classroom. “Are my instructions boring you?” the teacher asked, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor.

Lance sat bolt upright, the guilt written plain on his face. “Not at all, miss. I was just telling Keith here to stop talking and pay attention.” Keith stomped on his foot and Lance fought back a yelp, waiting until she’d turned back to the board before glaring at him.

“Don’t get _me_ in trouble, dick,” Keith hissed. “Some of us actually _want_ to pass this damn class.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Lighten up a bit, you know we’re doomed to fail after the last test anyway.”

Keith groaned, clearly not welcoming the somber reminder. “D’you think if we burn down the class they’ll forget about that test?”

“Yeah, _that_ won’t look suspicious,” Lance snorted.

Keith shrugged. “Science labs are full of explosive shit, right? I’m sure it happens more often than you’d think.”

Lance laughed. “Chem labs, maybe. But I don’t think the bouncy balls in physics labs are as flammable.”

Keith sighed, resigned. “Yeah, but it’d be nice to hope, wouldn’t it?” He smiled softly, looking back to the board. Lance studied his soft expression in profile for a moment, the mere notion that he was the cause of that rare smile bringing one to his own lips. He looked back to the lab instructions set out on his desk, the smile remaining despite knowing in the back of his mind that they were both fucked for this lab today.

Yeah, Lance wanted an easier life. But it was his friends who really deserved it.

* * *

 

“We’re home!” Lance announced as he threw his front door open, kicking off his shoes and spotting his father on the couch.

He looked up from a thick novel and smiled. “Hey guys.” He waved at the four of them, receiving a small chorus of ‘hi’s from Lance’s friends.

“Hi _papi_ , where’s mom?” Lance asked, stepping off to the side as his friends sidled past him, each shouldering a hulking garment bag.

“Kitchen,” he replied.

Lance frowned, setting his backpack down on the floor. “She’s supposed to pick up my corsage.”

His father sighed. “It’s a _boutonniere_ , Lance, and Antonio’s picking it up.”

Lance groaned. “Ugh, not Tony; he’s going to squish the flowers!”

“ _Ay, como eres ingrato_ ,” his father scolded, turning back to his book, “you should be thankful your brother is helping you out.”

“Hey Lance,” Pidge strained under her enormous dress, “not for nothing but can we go upstairs now? This dress is getting heavier by the second.”

Lance shrugged. “Yeah sure, go right ahead. Mi casa and all that.”

“Lancito!” His mother called from the other room. “Is that you?”

“We’re out here!” Lance shouted back.

“Hang on, don’t leave until I see you!” She hurried in from the kitchen, grinning widely as she reached her hands out to Lance’s face. “My baby boy, already getting ready for his prom!”

“Ma, _paraaaa_ ,” Lance whined, lazily swiping at the hands that grabbed at his cheeks.

“Maria,” Lance’s father chided, “ _lo avergüenzas delante de sus amigos_.”

“So serious, the both of you,” she laughed at them, but ultimately gave in. Dropping her hands, she turned to appraise Lance’s three companions instead. “You boys are going to look so handsome in your suits. And Pidge, what a stunning dress you have! Lance showed me the pictures, you look beautiful wearing it.”

Pidge gave a wide grin, adjusting the mound of fabric that rested over her shoulder. “Thanks!”

She nodded, smiling warmly. “Hunk’s a lucky boy to have you as his date.”

“Ma,” Lance warned, but she waved him off.

“ _Yo sé, yo sé_ , you don’t have to explain it to me again, but it’s still nice! And what about you, Keith?” She turned to him now. “Do you have a lucky lady you’re taking to prom?”

Lance snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think Keith would ever take a _girl_ to prom.”

His mother gave him an unimpressed frown. “Lance, don’t be so rude to your friends. He’s a handsome boy, why couldn’t he find a girl to go to prom with him?”

He was prepared to reply with some jab at Keith’s hair, but wasn’t given the chance when Keith spoke up instead. “Uh,” he started, shifting nervously on his feet as he tried to keep his tone casual, “probably because I’m really gay.”

The room stilled in the moment following the confession, a shocked silence quickly turning to an awkward one. Lance looked from his mother, who had briefly failed to school the surprise out of her expression, to his father, whose gaze flicked from Keith to Lance’s mom, and then finally back to Lance, his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in earnest. Lance didn’t even _want_ to decipher what was behind that look, so he turned back to Keith, who now wore a weak smile directed at Lance’s mom.

“Oh,” she finally replied, recovering from her shock to smile back at him. “Well that’s… that’s nice,” she managed. Keith visibly relaxed (as did Lance), smiling a bit more honestly as he nodded. The room seemed to unfreeze once the silence had been broken, and the four of them started to move towards the stairs again.

“It’s really not,” Hunk spoke up as he led the way, “seeing as he got rejected by the captain of the hockey team today.”

Keith’s smile dropped, rounding on Hunk with betrayal etched in his tone. “I didn’t—oh my god will you guys stop _saying_ that?” He pleaded, following quickly behind him.

Lance laughed, patting a sympathetic hand on Keith’s passing shoulder before turning back to his mom. “We’re going to get ready upstairs, okay? Is my suit there?”

She nodded. “On your bed. But don’t take too long, you don’t want to keep Plaxum waiting.”

Lance ran a hand through his hair as he followed his friends toward the stairs. “Perfection takes time, _mam_ _á_!”

She simply shook her head, going over to sit next to her husband on the couch. Lance could hear them speaking in hushed Spanish as he walked away, trying not to listen in when it was clear they didn’t want to be overheard. He hesitated about halfway up, his curiosity getting the better of him as he turned to watch them over his shoulder. He couldn’t see his mother’s face, as she faced away from him, but he could tell from the sharp frown his father wore that he was anything but pleased. He figured he knew his parents well enough to guess what they were talking about, and his heart sank as he watched their tense discussion.

“Hey,” Keith called softly, pulling Lance’s attention away. Lance turned back and saw him a step above where Lance had stilled. He’d clearly returned from Lance’s room, since he no longer carried his suit, and he smiled kindly as he continued. “See, like I told you, it’s no big deal. Plus, your parents seemed fine with it.”

Lance worried at his bottom lip, clearly having been the only one to notice what was happening downstairs. “We’ll see. Hopefully my dad won’t ban me from seeing you or something,” he replied, half-joking but not at all amused.

Concern flashed quickly across Keith’s features before he caught it, covering it with a nonchalant shrug. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Lance smiled, letting himself forget his parents for a moment in favour of focusing on Keith. “You pretend like you’re such a bad boy, but I know better. You’re actually just a dork.”

Keith snorted, leaning against the railing. “Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“‘Really’ gay,” Lance mocked.

“Shut up,” he laughed, turning around to lead Lance upstairs.

* * *

The lights of the banquet hall were turned low, adding to the intimate ambience that the slow, soft music had created. And despite the fact that they crammed almost elbow-to-elbow with the other couples on the dance floor, it made Lance feel as though he and the beautiful woman he held in his arms were the only two people who existed.

For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to imagine they met under different circumstances, an alternate universe where she was a beautiful princess and he, a lowly servant. What would follow would be a hidden and passionate romance, a conflict that would only be resolved by the virtue of their true love, and a hard-fought but inevitable happy ever after.

“What’re you smiling about?” Plaxum murmured, leaning closer to catch his gaze with her own and smiling softly.

Lance hummed, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. “Just thinking,” he answered vaguely, thinking it best not to mention the word ‘love’ in his response given their… tricky future. “You look beautiful tonight,” he said instead.

She exhaled a breezy chuckle, Lance feeling it against his lips. “Thanks, so do you.”

“Yeah? I don’t know about the suit, to be honest. I don’t even think I can compete with you without a dress like yours.”

She pulled away, Lance looking back to see the mirth dancing in her eyes. “You think you could rock the mermaid dress?”

Lance unclasped their joined hands to brush a tightly-curled lock of hair away from her face. “You never know if you don’t try.”

“You’d make a dashing mermaid man.”

Lance snorted. “Mermaid Man? Does that make you Barnacle Boy?”

She laughed easily. “Hell no, I’m totally Sandy Cheeks.”

Lance quirked an eyebrow. “You can’t be Sandy, Sandy doesn’t date Mermaid Man!”

She erupted in giggles, resting her head on his shoulder as the laughs shook her. “Are you saying Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy are dating?”

Lance joined her laughter, their feet stilling as they struggled to get their laughter back under control. “Shut up, oh my god.” He shook his head at her, wishing for the hundredth time that he could freeze time in that moment, that she could just stay right there, in his arms. “I’m going to miss you,” he let himself admit, resting a gentle kiss on the crown of her head.

She sighed, pulling back to regard him with a sad, resigned smile. “I thought we were going to forget about that tonight.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, eyes downcast.

She shook her head. “Let’s just enjoy the time we have, okay?” Her gaze drifted over his shoulder, and she smiled in earnest again. “If it’s any consolation, I think I just found the one person who’s moping harder than you.”

“I’m not moping,” he denied.

Plaxum squeezed his hand tight. “Maybe you two could cheer each other up.”

Lance considered her suggestion. “Is it Keith?”

“See for yourself.” She spun the two of them around, switching places smoothly to give him a better view of the table they’d abandoned when the music had started. Sure enough, Keith sat alone at their dinner table, slouched low in his chair as he stared at his outstretched feet, clicking the toes together on beat with the music.

Lance sighed at the pitiful display. “Does he even know he’s doing that?”

“You think he cares?” Plaxum retorted. Keith looked up then, catching Lance’s eye momentarily before quickly turning away, fussing with something on the tablecloth. “He’s been watching you all night,” she informed.

Lance looked back to her with wide eyes. “Really? Why…” he wondered aloud.

She laughed. “Sometimes you miss the most obvious things in the world, Lance. Just go talk to him, and maybe you’ll find out.”

Lance frowned. “But I want to stay with you,” he protested softly.

“I’ll still be here, I’m not leaving tonight. Besides, I’m tired of seeing the two of you look so miserable.”

Lance sighed. “Just one dance, okay?”

She grinned. “Of course. I can’t have him stealing my boyfriend, can I?” The song wound down and she stepped out of his grip, pulling him by the hand to lead him back to the table. She let go just as they approached Keith, going to plop down on the nearest chair and shake off her high heels while Lance stepped up to his side.

“Hey.” He scuffed his foot against the leg of Keith’s chair, and Keith looked up at him inquisitively, as though he hadn’t purportedly just been staring at the back of Lance’s head for God knows how long.

“What’s up?” He asked, tugging at the knot of his red tie to undo it.

Lance held a hand out to Keith and grinned, eliciting a dubious look from him. “I’m making your dreams come true: you’re going to dance with the hottest guy at prom.”

Keith scoffed at the suggestion, the tail end of it swallowed up by the start of another slow song. “Yeah, I’m not going to do that.” He smoothed the tie against his front, unbuttoning the top of his shirt and shaking out the collar.

“Oh yes you are,” Plaxum ordered, massaging her sore foot as she propped it on her knee. “I can’t dance anymore, so I’m tagging you in.”

Keith’s hands stilled as he looked to her, his eyes pleading. “Please don’t.”

She merely smiled back, giving him a small wave goodbye. “Have fun, you two.”

Keith sighed, grabbing Lance’s outstretched hand and roughly hoisting himself up with a grunt. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

“Jeez, try not to sound _too_ excited, Keith,” Lance scoffed as he stepped backwards to the dance floor, leading Keith into the crowd.

Keith looked down at their joined hands, biting at his lip. “I don’t know how to dance, by the way, so don’t get pissed when I step on your foot.”

Lance chuckled, sliding his free hand across the small of Keith’s back and adjusting the other in his grip, pulling him close. Keith finally looked back to him, his eyes widening as he tensed in Lance’s hold. “How about I teach you then? Just copy what I do, I promise to go easy on you.” He winked, nudging Keith with his hands as he started to sway.

Keith huffed, his muscles finally relaxing. “Wonder where you got _that_ from.” He looked down at their feet, watching the pattern Lance’s traced a few times before trying to mirror it.

Lance smiled, stifling his laughter whenever Keith fumbled the step—he could be so goddamn _cute_ when he let himself go a bit. “It’s good advice, I think you should take it.” Keith looked back up to him, finally synced up with Lance’s steps. “There you go!” Lance praised. “See, it’s not that hard.”

Keith blushed, bowing his head to cover it up. “It’s still kind of dumb,” he insisted weakly, adjusting his hands and sending pleasant waves of warmth through Lance from the points of contact.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Duh, of course it is, so’s everything about prom. You spend a ton of money to look nice for a picture that only your mom’s going to like in five years, eat dry, overpriced chicken for dinner, and dance to the same ten songs you hear on the radio all day long.”

Keith raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t expect you to be so… cynical about this. I thought you loved this kind of thing.”

Lance grinned. “Are you kidding? Of course I do! It might just be an overglorified school dance, but it’s an experience, something you’ll remember fondly when you’re all old and crotchety—or I guess crotcheti _er_ in your case—”

“There’s no way that’s a word,” Keith interrupted.

Lance shook his head. “Let me make a point man, alright? All it is is an excuse to take a night off studying and spend time with your friends. And definitely _not_ a night to spend sulking all by yourself over some dumb guy,” he tacked on, giving Keith a pointed look.

“I’m _not_ —”

“Yes, you are,” Lance interrupted, and he would know; it takes one to know one, after all. “I can tell the difference between regular grumpy Keith and gloomy Keith, and right now we’re full on channeling the inside of a Hot Topic.”

Keith sent him a derisive look, and Lance got the impression that if his hands weren’t currently being occupied, he’d be folding his arms over his chest. “Honestly, sometimes I swear you’re actually going to be serious—”

“But I _am_ being serious,” Lance laughed. “Keith, I’ve never seen you so hung up on a guy before! It’s weird seeing you care so much about this.”

Keith shook his head. “I told you already, I don’t care. You all know I’m a shit liar, why don’t you believe me?”

Lance gave him a sympathetic smile, which only served to deepen Keith’s pout. “Alright, I believe you,” he surrendered after a long moment. “If you say nothing’s wrong, then nothing’s wrong.” He left it at that, closing his eyes as he hummed along to the gentle melody, never quite catching the lyrics of the old song but feeling the singer’s tenor resonate in his bones nonetheless. Keith’s grip stiffened as he wordlessly took the lead, abruptly pulling at Lance from time to time to keep him from bumping shoulders with other couples.

It took less than a minute for Keith to break.

“Lance I have a secret I need to tell you,” Keith blurted suddenly, words stumbling over each other as though he was trying to get it out before he could stop himself. Lance reopened his eyes, catching Keith watching him tensely, holding his breath as he waited on Lance’s response.

Lance blinked, his mind slowly ebbing back into focus. “Okay, what’s the secret?”

Keith averted his eyes, looking down at their feet again. “There’s… two of them, actually.”

Lance quirked an eyebrow. “Okay, which one do you want to start with?”

Keith’s shoulders sagged, looking back up at Lance with a furrowed brow. “I don’t really want to say either,” he murmured.

Lance sighed. Since when did _Keith_ mince his words? “Okay, then just start with the more important one.” Keith bit at his lip, contemplating the suggestion.

Whatever this secret was, Lance could clearly see it was putting Keith on edge, and he considered for a moment if he should’ve felt anywhere near as nervous as Keith looked. He couldn’t bring himself to worry, though; he felt safe with Keith, he _trusted_ Keith to never hurt him.

And, in the hindsight afforded to him mere moments later, that would prove to be a big mistake.

The reluctance was still written across Keith’s face, but he shut his eyes, taking a big breath before he looked back to Lance and came out with it. “I’m leaving at the end of the summer, and I’m not coming back.”

The song came to an end, and Lance’s feet stilled in the silence. The next song trickled in, its melody slow and gentle, but Lance neglected to join in with it for a moment as he grappled with the news.

“Oh,” he finally replied, feigning nonchalance as he moved his feet again, pretending like he’d never stopped. “What was the other thing?”

Keith swallowed heavily, readjusting his hand against Lance’s shoulder and breaking eye contact once more. “Uh… just… I think you look really good in that suit.”

Lance laughed. “I already knew that.”

Keith rolled his eyes and smiled, playing along with Lance’s charade. “Yeah, but every time I give you even the smallest of compliments it goes right to your head, and you never let it go.”

Lance chuckled again, pretending momentarily that he could avoid the problem forever, but his smile quickly faded as he dropped the act. “Alright Keith, what’s going on? Why are you leaving?”

Keith sighed, trouble brewing in his eyes as he frowned. “I got an acceptance from a college out-of-state, and I’m taking it.”

Lance furrowed his brow, incredulous. “What, you couldn’t get into a school in Oregon?”

“Not with a full-ride scholarship. This school’s paying for everything, including residence, and… I’m not in a position to refuse that.”

Lance bit at his lip. “Okay, but that’s just for the school year, right? There’s no reason you can’t come back for the summer.”

Keith shook his head. “I turn eighteen in October, so I’ve got nothing tying me here after that.”

Lance’s heart dropped, anger rising up to deflect his pain. “Like hell you don’t, Keith! Don’t we mean anything to you? You think your foster parents wouldn’t take you back if—”

“You don’t _get_ it,” Keith hissed, his grip tightening. “You grew up in one house, Lance — with one _family_ , who took care of you no matter what. But it’s not like that for me. When I’m gone I’m not their responsibility anymore, and I have enough self-respect to accept that.” He exhaled long and deep, his shoulders slumping and his voice growing softer, and Lance could feel his own aggravation dissipate. “I can take care of myself. Always have, always will,” he insisted.

“Keith, don’t do this,” he implored. “It doesn’t have to be like that anymore. You know you can rely on us.”

Keith nodded. “I know, but that’s why I have to do this.” His expression hardened with resolve, and did that ever hurt Lance; he shouldn’t _have_ to be so strong for himself.

But Lance realised he’d have to accept it, that it was the only way he could be strong for Keith too. “Alright, where’s the school?”

“Pennsylvania.”

Lance nodded silently, trying his best to take it in stride. _Couldn’t get much farther from us than the entire other coast, now could you?_ He thought bitterly.

“I don’t know how Hunk’s going to take it,” he replied, though it was probably the last thing he was considering in the moment. “You know how sensitive he can be.”

Keith bit nervously at his lip. “Uh… actually, I told Hunk already.”

Lance brain stalled a moment. “Oh,” he replied, if only to fill the silence.

He’d assumed that Keith was confiding in him alone, taking his offer to be a willing ear in earnest. But he couldn’t really blame Keith, now could he? Hunk was a far better hugger, and Lance… well, Lance was never good at being serious, now was he?

“Well, I mean, be careful with Pidge also. She might seem like she doesn’t care, but—”

“I told her too.”

 _Ouch_. He really hoped he wasn’t starting to get the picture. “Shiro?” Keith gave a guilty nod. “Right,” Lance sighed, eyes downcast. He felt foolish thinking that Keith was coming to him for comfort, that he was anything other than an afterthought.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Keith’s steps stuttered as he lost the pattern, and he was silent for a moment as he corrected. “I wanted to find the right time, but it never came.”

Lance wondered how long he’d been kept in the dark about this, but he didn’t think he’d want to know. “No time like the present, right?” He gave a wry laugh.

Keith clicked his tongue, frustration etching deep creases in his brow. “I should’ve waited until after tonight. I’m sure you don’t want to be thinking about this right now.”

Lance shook his head. _You should’ve told me sooner_ , he thought. _You should’ve said something when I still had time to change your mind_. “It’s okay man, I’ll be fine. It’s just… I’ll miss you,” he admitted.

Keith shrugged it off. “It’ll be okay, you’ll forget me soon enough.”

Lance gave a pained laugh, almost wishing it were that easy. “I really don’t think I will.”

Keith opened his mouth to protest, but he must’ve thought better of answering because he shut it almost as soon. He nodded his head instead, a bittersweet smile on his lips. “You have my number, in any case.”

 _But that’s not the same_ , Lance wanted to argue. He couldn’t exactly understand why, but there was something in him that needed Keith to be _here_ , something in his heart that screamed at him to hold him in his arms and never let him go.

It was something that had drawn Lance to latch onto Keith when they’d first met, to egg him on constantly and to never let him have the last word. Something that wouldn’t let him see Keith’s smile—Keith’s _lips_ — without saying ‘hey, remember what those felt like?’ Something that told him, for the love of God, don’t let go. _Hold on, hold on, hold on_ , all while Keith pushed him away, while he implored him to do the opposite. But Lance was just so tired of begging people to stay. He couldn’t do it anymore.

So he didn’t.

Keith let his gaze drift over Lance’s shoulder, finally breaking the silence that had settled between them. “We should probably get back to the table now, Pidge and Plaxum keep making faces at us.”

“Hm?” Lance turned to look behind himself, pulling Keith along as he ultimately located the two of them, along with Hunk, at their table.

The three of them watched Keith and Lance, Pidge visibly cackling as a catcall was drowned out by the music, and Hunk gave a full body laugh as Plaxum mimicked a very crude facsimile of making out.

Lance couldn’t help but laugh, letting it buoy his heavy heart. “Have they been doing that this whole time?”

“I think so,” Keith replied, a disarming warmth present in his voice that spread through Lance’s chest. He looked back at Keith, who smiled genuinely for the first time Lance had seen all night, and damn if Plaxum’s suggestion wasn’t tempting right then.

 _Wait, no Lance. Keith’s just a friend._ He chastised himself. _Oh, and also you have a girlfriend. That too_.

He shook the thoughts out of his head. “So what do you say,” he asked, Keith finally looking back to him, “want to give them a show?” He waggled his eyebrows as he pulled their chests flush together, bending Keith back in a dip even as he went stiff in Lance’s hold.

Keith’s eyes flew wide as gravity suddenly shifted against him, struggling with the urge to hold onto Lance for purchase while simultaneously trying to push him away. “What the hell, Lance?” He squawked, his voice cracking as his cheeks flushed as red as his tie. “Get off!”

Lance laughed as he straightened them out. “I’m just kidding,” he insisted—about 98% honest—convincing himself that it’s totally normal to want to kiss your friends, particularly when they’re super hot (hey, Lance never asked for all his friends to be attractive, and for at least one of them to be a really good kisser—no wait, _not_ the right time to be thinking about that!) He realised, perhaps a bit belatedly, that Keith and he were still practically nose-to-nose, and he quickly stepped back to remedy that, finally letting his hands slip away. “Alright, let’s go sit. My feet hurt anyway.”

He tried to ignore how their clasped fingers seemed to stay tangled for a moment too long, swearing on his life that he had let go.

**Author's Note:**

> ohohho boy who do you think held on? Trick question it was me, the writer, astral projecting into the fic and making them do it. No ragrets.
> 
> (sidenote crotchetier IS a word @ keith and @ fucking google docs fight me on this)
> 
> Keith: how do I let this boy know I care about him? Better tell his parents I’m super gay
> 
> Lance: OTP AU where my gf doesn’t have to leave
> 
> The point I’m trying to make is that they’re both really bad at relationships. And also super awkward. But u know what that’s what high school is for: working out ur awkwardness before u go off to university. Or at least learning to own that awkwardness by the time u reach post-secondary. Probably a bit of both tbh. Actually no, definitely both.
> 
> Congrats, we’re officially halfway through this story! Three down, three to go (although I have a feeling that the word count might be higher in the second half of this than in the first. Stay tuned for more…
> 
> Tbh if I could go back in time and redo anything with this fic, I’d make it multichap instead of a series. I really wish I had time to develop more of Plaxum’s place in the story, as well as Hunk and Pidge’s, but this is the fate I’ve chosen for myself. However, this format does allow me to focus more on writing the significant scenes in the story (and consequently, writing a lot faster than I could a multichap), so it definitely has its perks.
> 
> (I state again that Spanish is not a language I’m fluent in, and although I do the best to try and give a respectful translation I might make mistakes, so I do apologise if I made any errors!)
> 
> BTW I always try to tie off loose ends in my fics (I hate mentioning something only once and never doing anything with it) so like don’t discount the things that seem innocuous, keep em in mind because they might come back later! I’ve got one subplot that I’ve been working up to, and it’s coming to a head of sorts at the end of the fic and I’m rly looking forward to watching it develop and pay off and hjasjdkj idk I hope ur excited too.
> 
> Also… so like I have a policy of never criticising my writing in my notes, but in this case I do want to say that I’ve been going through a lot of stress in my life, and by consequent I wasn’t able to give this fic the editing I really wanted to. I really wish I could’ve put a little more work into it but I’m dealing with a lot of shit that’s been bogging me down and I need a win right now. Uploading this is the accomplishment I’m permitting myself to have, it’s one more thing I can check off on my to-do list. So yeah with that being said, I apologise that this isn’t my 110%, and I promise to try and not get all emo on y’all like this in the future haha.
> 
> Anyways enough of th@ shit
> 
> As always, if you enjoyed this then please kudo, comment, and/or [reblog on Tumblr!](http://noussommeslessquelettes.tumblr.com/post/166167948756/harvest-moon-noussommeslessquelettes-voltron) I’m hoping to have the next part out in a month, so I hope you’ll stick around for that! <3


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